


Perchance

by jemariel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon, Djinn dream referenced, M/M, Omega Dean Winchester, Post-Case, Profound Bond Gift Exchange: Reunion, Scenting, heat/mating cycle referenced, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:14:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29642169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jemariel/pseuds/jemariel
Summary: “I don’t like being scared, Cas. Especially not about you.”The low light from the lamp across the room glints on the curve of the bottle. Cas rubs his thumb over the reflection and tries not to remember his dream.“What, um.” Dean starts. “What did you dream about?”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 37
Kudos: 214
Collections: Profound Bond Gift Exchange: Reunion





	Perchance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AmidalasCouture](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmidalasCouture/gifts).



> This is for Elyrievervell for our Profound Bond Gift Exchange: Reunion round! Super glad I got to write this lil guy, I had fun. I hope you enjoy! :D
> 
> Thanks to [PallasPerilous](https://pallasperilous.tumblr.com) for the beta read!

“Ow.”

“Hold still.”

“Dean, you don’t have to—”

“Yes I do. Shut up.”

Cas huffs and settles on the creaky chair. Dean dabs strong liquor on a wad of toilet paper and holds it to the newly finished stitches. The sting makes Cas hiss; Dean thrusts the bottle at him. “Here. Drink.”

Castiel knows that alcohol acts as a blood thinner and therefore is not actually a good idea, but he also knows that his whole arm is throbbing, his head is sore, and the greasy fast-food burger is sitting poorly in his stomach after so many days of emptiness.

And he knows the tight pinch of Dean’s mouth, his scent bitter like burnt pastry and badly caramelized sugar.

Cas takes the bottle. Brown liquor goes down like acid and he grimaces. “Thank you.”

Instead of answering, Dean snaps the first aid kit closed and stands up fast enough to send the second folding chair skittering back. Cas frowns at his back.

“It’s not like I got kidnapped on purpose,” Cas says; it comes out pouty.

“You could have been killed, Cas,” Dean says, rounding on him. “The hell makes you think you can pull a stunt like that? No note, no voicemail, nothing.”

“We needed to find the djinn’s hideout and we needed to do it quickly,” Cas says. “I thought I could handle it on my own. I didn’t see the point of waiting for you.”

“What, just because you’re a big bad alpha now, you don’t need any backup? You think just because I’m an omega, you need to protect my delicate ass? Well I got news for you, buddy. It ain’t that fragile.”

Cas bristles. “This is not about that,” he snaps. 

“You’re not an angel anymore, either,” Dean says. “You could have been stone-cold dead in that warehouse and where would I have been then, huh?”

Something in his tone clicks into place in Cas’s brain. “You were worried about me.”

“Damn right I was worried,” Dean says, and the fight drains out of him. “I don’t like being scared, Cas. Especially not about you.”

The low light from the lamp across the room glints on the curve of the bottle. Cas rubs his thumb over the reflection and tries not to remember his dream. 

Dean settles on the bed. “Sorry,” he says to his own hands.

Cas shakes his head. “You’re right. I should have waited for you.”

He stares at Dean’s knees, listening to the buzz of busy light bulbs. Those jeans are going to rip soon, the denim baggy, faded, and thin.

“What, um.” Dean starts. “What did you dream about?”

For a minute, Cas debates lying, or at least a lie of omission. His dream had been full of the scent of green apples, sweet pastry, cinnamon, the soft skin of Dean’s neck. It hadn’t quite been Heaven, but he didn't have enough frame of reference to make a human life for himself, either, so it had been this odd mix of the two, just him and Dean in some eternal Tuesday afternoon in his mind. 

But full of scent and sensation that was very much grounded in memory. 

It’s been strange between them, since those nights a few months ago. Dean had been in heat, and he’d begged—he’d wanted Castiel, and Castiel’s honor had not been so great that he could resist. For a few blissful days, he’d held his heart’s desire in his hands, felt him sweat, borne witness to his pleasure. It feels unreal, like something that happened in an alternate reality, but there has been a yearning in Castiel ever since to bury his nose behind Dean’s ear and breathe him in. 

Dean, on the other hand, seems to consider their congress no more than a business transaction. He barely acknowledges that it happened, and keeps his distance, now, holding back even directive touches to Castiel’s arm or shoulder, little signals of camaraderie that Cas didn’t know to miss until they were gone. 

They’d all been there in the djinn dream, though. All those little touches and so much more.

“Just—just a normal life,” Cas says. “I’m sure you know the one. No monsters, no Heaven or Hell. Just. Living.”

Dean cocks an eyebrow. “Really.”

Cas nods, and determinedly does not look away from Dean’s skeptical glare.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that, right?”

Cas deflates.

“Did, uh.” Dean shifts and fidgets on the bed. “Was I there?” he finally asks.

Slowly, Cas nods.

Instantly, there’s a flood of warm apple scent, and Cas can’t help but breathe in deep. 

“Was it, uh.” Dean circles his hands, a vague, indecisive gesture. “Us?”

Holding on tightly, though he can’t say to what, Cas nods again.

Dean takes in a huge, shuddery breath. “I, uh. I didn’t know if you’d want anything to do with me. After. After what we did together.”

Oh, so they _are_ going to have this conversation. Interesting. Cas swallows against his heartbeat and turns one hand open-palmed on his knee. “I could say the same. I didn’t know if it was just your heat talking, or if you actually—” he stops. Can't say the words _if you actually want me_ to Dean’s face. He’s a coward. 

“I can handle a heat, Cas,” Dean says. “I didn’t _need_ you, I didn’t need anybody. Wouldn’t have been the first time I’d done for myself.”

“Then why?”

Dean’s face is flushing red hot and his scent goes buttery-rich, cinnamon-spicy. “Do I really need to spell it out for you?”

“I prefer clarity,” Cas says, pulse doing double-time.

Dean huffs. “You would.” Dean hunches in on himself, elbows on his knees, picking at his own cuticles. “You were all—” he stops. “It was a lot easier when you were an angel, cuz you were all, kinda. Above all this,” he says. “Didn’t have to worry about it. But now you’re human, and. And, I dunno. It makes me want—things. Stupid things. With you.”

Cas reaches out to still his fingers where they’re tearing at their own edges. He doesn’t mean to clasp, but then Dean’s hands turn up underneath his own and all at once, they’re holding hands. Castiel loses his breath.

“I didn’t want to make assumptions,” Cas says, and braces himself. “But my feelings for you didn’t manifest out of thin air when I lost my grace.”

“You—” Dean stares, all wide green eyes and freckles and bee-sting-pink lips. Cas clenches his jaw and awaits judgement. “Feelings?”

Cas nods.

Dean blinks down at their hands. Then laughs. “We’re idiots, aren’t we?”

Cracking a smile, Cas nods again. “I think we are.”

Dean laughs harder, and it fuels the expanding bubble in Cas’s heart. When he flops himself back on the bed, he pulls Cas along by the hand. “C’mere.”

Cas goes. Crawls right up on the bed next to Dean in nothing but some borrowed jeans. Dares to lean over him, and there is nothing more exhilarating than having Dean Winchester blinking up at you from a bed. The need to kiss him seizes Cas around the throat.

As if reading his mind, or maybe just his scent, Dean reaches up to wrap a hand around the back of Cas’s neck. Cas follows his gentle pressure down until their foreheads knock together and he can’t keep both of Dean’s eyes in focus at once.

They breathe that way. Cas doesn’t know how it can be so overwhelming to simply breathe with another person. Little touches—the tips of their noses, eyelashes on a cheekbone—become momentous. 

They come together slowly, in little shifts and shuffles, until Cas is draped across Dean’s chest with his nose buried in Dean’s scentspot. Dean’s arms wind tight around Cas’s shoulders; one of Cas’s legs slots between Dean’s.

“Missed you,” Dean murmurs against Cas’s own neck. His breath and lips find a tender spot under his ear.

“Missed you too.”

“We coulda had this the whole time?”

Cas isn’t sure if he laughs, but he does press a smile into Dean’s skin.

“You’re not in heat. Do you still—?”

“Fuck yeah,” Dean says, and Cas feels himself being pushed up and back just long enough for Dean to wriggle out of his shirt. Jeans follow soon after, and then it’s just hot, bare skin and the sweetness of their scents together. Cas’s toes curl at Dean’s cocky grin; Cas’s thorough exploration of his body makes Dean’s eyes cross. Cas completely forgets to be self-conscious and Dean shushes him about the neighbors.

“I don’t care,” Cas growls, and sets about making Dean scream.

At the end, they lie in a sweaty tangle with Dean’s fingers in Cas’s hair and his legs around Cas’s waist. They won’t be going anywhere for some time.

“Promise me something,” Dean murmurs against Cas’s hairline. “Don’t go trying to fly solo like that, okay? Not without telling me.”

Cas presses a kiss to the dip of Dean’s sternum. “Only if you promise the same,” he says. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

“Deal.”

Some time later, as Castiel drifts to sleep with Dean heavy in his arms, it occurs to him that, for the first time, he is not afraid to dream. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to hang out with a bunch of fellow destiel nerds, come join the [Profound Bond Discord Server!](https://discord.gg/profoundbond) We're nice :D You can also find me on [tumblr](https://jemariel.tumblr.com) if you like
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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